An Historic Love
by Mikage1
Summary: Forbidden love can't last forever, and so one must make the most of it while they can. Yuuri/?. Warnings: het, incest ? . Don't read if you don't like.


**Warning(s):** Het, incest (??).

I would like to point out that both of those involved are consenting adults. This takes place sixteen years after the beginning of the series, so you can do the math and see how old they all are.

If you don't like it... well, that's not my problem. Wait for the next story, I guess. :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any of its characters. Also, this idea was originally thought by my friend and beta, Guine-chan, but seeing as she'll probably never write it, she allowed me to do so. I love you, Guine~! And the title comes from track 7 on the soundtrack to the Showtime series The Tudors.

**An Historic Love**

They never did it in his bedroom.

Even with his husband away on business, it would have been dangerous to attempt an act such as this within his own room. The maids would see the evidence of his infidelity on the sheets, and the entire palace would know within a week - perhaps only days.

Wolfram would never look at them the same again.

They never did it in her room either, though not because of any fear of being found out. It wouldn't exactly be proper under the current circumstances, but it wasn't uncommon for a woman her age to receive men into her chambers at night, though he hoped that he was the only one. There would be rumors for sure, yet not half as bad - and indeed they wouldn't cause as dreadful a reaction - as doing it in his own room would have.

The real reason was because for the short, sweet time in which they were together, they wanted to pretend that they were not who they really were, and the lavishness of her bedchamber was too much of a reminder of that which neither of them liked to think about - that this was wrong, forbidden, and that it would one day have to come to an end.

Instead, they made plans to meet in a vacant room - always a different one every time, so that the maids wouldn't become suspicious. They would make their plans earlier in the day, secretly, in quick, low whispers that no one else would be able to hear, and then, when the time came, he would escape the constant company of his advisers, she would excuse herself from among the other noble ladies, and they would sneak away in the cover of dark hallways and secret passages, and continue their secret affair.

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and after thirty-one years of life, sixteen of which had been spent in the royal court, he liked to think he knew a beautiful woman when he saw one.

Her skin was soft, as if it had not been worn a single bit since childhood, unflawed and as close to perfection as a creature of the mortal world could possibly be. Her hair was long and flowing, glossy strands that spread across the pillow as he laid her against the bed. Every time he would lean down and inhale the sweet scent of it, then tenderly brush her bangs off of her forehead.

He always took care to undress her slowly, or as slow as their short time together would allow, for although they both longed to have one another in their embrace until the sun rose from behind the hills in the east, they couldn't risk having the others become curious, and notice that they had both gone missing at the exact same time. And so he would slip her dress off as slowly as possible - though never as slowly and as temptingly as he would like - and place a kiss upon every inch of her body as it was exposed to him.

His hands would then travel, unhindered, to the parts of her he hoped had not been touched by anyone before him. From her hair he would allow the tips of his fingers to caress her face, his thumb stroking her lips, before the light touch would move to her jaw, her neck, the line of her collar bone, his hands cupping her breasts, tickling her stomach, brushing across her thighs, before slipping between them to hear her gasp in pleasure and delight.

Their coupling was always passionate. He took his time, or as much time as he could afford, pleasuring her with his hands and mouth first before guiding himself inside of her. His thrusts would start out slow, always gentle, never rough for fear of hurting her, though she would tell him not to be silly, that she would prefer he didn't hold back, not when they were together like this. But he never rushed if he could help it, though as they neared the end their pace would steadily increase, heading swiftly towards the precipice to hurtle over the edge.

He made a point of looking into her eyes, wanting to see the shifting emotions - the love, the devotion, the joy, the elation, and even the sadness, as he knew it was felt because they both knew they could never truly be together, and he took some small bit of comfort in knowing that she dreaded the inevitable parting as much as he did. Sometimes, if he looked closely enough, he could see himself reflected in her eyes, and he knew that she could see the same emotions in him. They were shared between them, passed from one to the other and back again, weighing down on their hearts, their consciences, the sense of hopelessness tormenting their souls.

When he couldn't look into her eyes - for sometimes she closed them, of her own accord or because she couldn't help herself - he would gaze upon her face, tracing the familiarity of it with his own eyes, which he refused to close himself, for fear of missing something. He wanted to burn each moment, each reaction - each moan, each sigh, each kiss - into his memory, so that he would be able to look back on these times one day, when they'd resigned themselves to what could not be avoided, and he could recall every detail, clearly, with not a single gap in his memory.

When it was over, and they both lay tangled together on the bed, sweaty and sated and panting for air, holding one another in each of their arms for the last few moments they had together, she would takes his face into her hands and kiss him sweetly, and he would whisper her name into the darkness of the room, reverently, as if that one word were a praise.

"Greta…"

_La fin_

**A/N:** I put this up on AFN last night, and I was told that it was bad because Yuuri and Greta would never do anything like this. I don't know if it was just because the person was upset that it was Greta or what, but I did warn that it was incest-ish, so... any more warnings that that would have ruined my element of surprise. And it's not like she's a minor anymore. 31 - 5 = 26.

I also don't think their dislike for the pairing makes it bad, but... let me know what you guys think.

I don't support the pairing myself, I just had the idea and decided to write it. I don't recall ever seeing this pairing before.


End file.
